Dreaming of Time

Approaching the horizon.

Approaching the horizon.

Such a soft day, full of breath and reverie—chords that strum the heart wide open and tune all senses to simple pleasures. Time is only the gentle lapping of the waves, the screech of a gull, the whole world humming. 

Hearts pounding, arms stiffened, we paddle with excitement. Raucous laughter falls overboard and out to sea, while the echoes of our happiness hover overhead in the clouds. Time is only the approaching horizon, the distance from stroke to stroke, the rush of water beneath us. On shore again, we are tired and elated.

It was a good day to be alive and I want to memorize this moment. To learn the steps by heart and find my way back... when time is the solitary ticking of my heart, the drip drip of rainwater from a gutter, the pause between breaths.